


A Certain Kind of Sadness

by quickreaver, tebtosca



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dark, M/M, warnings in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickreaver/pseuds/quickreaver, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/pseuds/tebtosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Now and then I think of when we were together. Like when you said you felt so happy you could die."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Certain Kind of Sadness

**Author's Note:**

> Written and arted for one of the most wonderful and talented people in fandom, Petite-Madame, as part of a community celebrating her. Go check all the rest of the stuff over there! 
> 
> http://to-pm-with-love.livejournal.com/
> 
> Based on "Somebody That I Used To Know" by Gotye
> 
> NOTE: this is a darkfic (as you can probably tell from the AMAZING Quickreaver art) but I'm choosing to put the warnings at the END of the fic because it does include big spoilers. If you need the warnings, just hop to the bottom of the fic first!

Jensen’s beautiful when he sleeps.

“Pretty like an angel,” Jared would tell him later, when he woke.

“That make you my own personal devil?” he’d say to Jared in return, perfect pink mouth twisting upwards underneath the warmth of Jared’s own.

The pink mouth’s not so pink right now, but it’s okay. Jared kisses it anyway.

==

This is their meet-cute.

Jared’s rushing, like usual, kinetic energy pushing him forward. It’s a cold morning as he stumbles out of the coffee shop, palms warming against the pumpkin-spiced whatever it is in the cardboard cup.

He doesn’t see the guy standing right outside pulling a hit on a cigarette until Jared’s pumpkin-spiced whatever is all over the guy’s formerly pristine scrubs.

“Oh God, I’m such a klutz, I’m so sorry,” Jared rambles, reaching forward to try and blot out the quickly-spreading stain with some recycled napkins.

“Accidents happen, man. No worries.” The voice is raspy-smooth, sound carried out on too many cigarettes and not enough sleep. It draws Jared’s vision up from the man’s messy clothes to the freckled-spotted miracle that makes up his face.

“I’m Jared,” he blurts out. 

“Jensen,” the man says, smiling just for Jared for the very first time.

In that moment, Jared knows there will never be another for him.

==

Jensen’s beautiful when he’s quiet. 

His mouth is open just so, but no sound comes out. Jared presses his fingers to the curve of it, around the edges and down into the deep, dark dip. 

Cupid’s Bow, shooting Jared up, giving him his fix.

Jared’s thumb rubs over the enamel of Jensen’s teeth. 

They’re strangely dry, but Jared tries not to notice.

==

This is their first time.

Jared’s got Jensen up against the wall, back arching, nails biting into flesh. He fucks into him good, raw, skin-on-skin until nothing’s left but white-on-white and Jensen’s moans find their way into the little hidden pocket of Jared’s mind that tells him forever has to exist just for this.

Afterwards, later, they lay in bed, white sheets draped lazily around them. Jensen smokes a cigarette, teeth indenting the end as he pulls a drag as deep inside as he pulled in Jared earlier. 

Jared takes a pen and doodles shapes on Jensen’s wrist, marking him for the first time.

Jensen just laughs softly, and lets him.

==

Jensen’s beautiful when he unwinds.

His arm is extended out, loose, fingers only slightly curling. Jared picks it up in his palms, cradles it, kisses the tender skin with the sunburst tattoo designed by Jared’s own hand.

The pads of Jensen’s fingers still smell like nicotine but the scent is comforting to Jared. 

Jared takes those fingers and wraps them around his cock. Jensen’s fingers don’t curl themselves, so Jared takes his own hand and helps them along.

Jared inhales deep and closes his eyes. Thinks, smells, breathes _Jensen._

==

This is their first real fight. 

Jensen’s out too late. He’s an ER nurse, his hours are insane and he’s helping save lives and Jared knows this rationally, he _does_.

But Jensen’s out too late and Jared fucking _hates_ it.

Jensen’s tired, he says “not now, please,” when Jared gives him the look. 

“Where were you?”

Jensen doesn’t answer, just shrugs off his jacket and heads towards the bathroom. Jared follows.

“I said where the fuck were you? Your shift ended two hours ago.”

Jensen scrubs a hand over his face and looks at Jared in the mirror. “Went out for a drink with Misha and Danni to shake off the day.”

Jared’s eyes narrow. “Misha, huh?”

Jensen rolls his eyes and pushes off the counter, attempting to brush past him but Jared grabs his wrist to stop him. 

Bottle-green eyes get anime-big as Jensen stares down at Jared’s fist around his wrist, but Jared doesn’t let go until he gets a response.

“I would never cheat on you, Jared,” is what Jensen says, voice trembling in a way that Jared’s never heard before. 

It still takes a moment for Jared to let go.

They make love in their bed afterwards, softer and gentler than usual, Jared whispering apologies into the curve of Jensen’s neck, Jensen’s pulse beating strong and quick against his lips.

Jensen accepts them like he always does, until the one day he doesn’t.

==

Jensen’s beautiful when he’s laid bare.

Jared runs his hands up Jensen’s naked chest, pale skin so smooth, as wide open as one of Jared’s blank canvasses before the first streak of paint hits it.

He traces the tips of his fingers over the design of Jensen’s body, the dusky pink of Jensen’s nipples and the soft crease where belly meets hip. The jagged valley of his clavicle and the delicate skin of his neck.

Jared keeps moving his hands until he hits that spot. He places his palm right over the mark, a perfect fit.

But Jensen’s so cold and Jensen doesn’t like to be cold.

Jared will warm him up.

==

This is their last chance.

“Jared,” Jensen says, surprise all over his face as he pulls back the curtain surrounding the bed.

Jared looks up at him sheepishly, holding up the hand he injured, cut a little too neat.

Jensen notices, has to catch on, the crossed-arms and grim line of his mouth screaming that he knows exactly what Jared did to himself to end up here in Jensen’s ER.

“You can’t just show up at my work like this.”

Jared grits his teeth, wanting to shake him and make him understand how _ridiculous_ this entire thing is. “You changed your number.”

Jensen looks away, shoulders pulled up tight. “I think a clean break is the best thing for both of us right now. Maybe one day…”

Jared stands up, can’t help but flinch when Jensen takes an automatic step back. “Jensen, please. I miss you so much. Don’t you miss me even a little bit?”

Jensen’s gaze drifts back to him at that, and Jared can see when his face softens so he pushes further.

“Just come over for dinner tonight. You still have stuff at the apartment, we can go through it, I can help you pack it up if that’s what you really want. Just one more night, please.”

Jensen nods slowly and Jared feels a rush of something that feels almost like vindication, even as Jensen sends in another nurse to stitch him up.

The feeling lasts until he opens the door that evening to Misha telling him that Jensen sent him to get the rest of his things.

“He can get it himself,” Jared replies, voice steady, devoid of everything churning inside of him.

He closes the door and sinks to the ground, his back against wood and his heart in his hands.

==

Jensen’s beautiful when he’s bruised.

The marks aren’t fading. Purple and pink and mottled yellow blurring into the battered porcelain underneath. The shape of Jared’s fingers and Jared’s anger and, above all, Jared’s love, branded onto Jensen forever now, a part of him, the end of him.

Jared holds Jensen’s body in his arms. He’s bare now too, trying desperately to warm his lover up, to take the cold inside of him, within him. 

Jared’s hard against Jensen’s skin, friction and lingering attraction and the weight of him sending live currents down Jared’s veins, zinging and zapping through brand new, much darker pathways.

Jared’s whispering apologizes into the curve of Jensen’s neck, but this time nothing thumps against his lips so Jared bites down instead, writing benedictions with his teeth.

==

This is how it ends.

Jensen comes to get his stuff.

Jared reaches for him, Jensen backs away. 

Jared reaches again, hands on Jensen’s neck.

Jensen can’t back away anymore.

The sound of the snap is softer than it should be.

==

Jensen’s beautiful when he’s where he belongs.

Jared’s cradling Jensen in his arms now, Jensen stiffer than before, and still so damn cold no matter what Jared does. 

A phone keeps ringing. Jared thinks it’s probably Jensen’s, but he lets it ring.

Jared holds Jensen to him and kisses the nape of his neck, around the curve, over the purple and pink and mottled yellow porcelain. 

Jared holds Jensen through the pounding on the door, the cries through the wood, past the protestations and the warnings and the accusations and the shattering of the doorframe.

“Pretty like an angel,” he says, right into the frozen curl of Jensen’s ear. “My little angel now.”

Jared inhales deep and closes his eyes. Thinks, smells, breathes _forever._

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings include character death and non-graphic inferred necrophilia


End file.
